Hold the phone . . . while I punch a wall, OR was there a hidden camera - either way, LAUGHING (sort of)

Category:  some posts just write themselves.

EMDR:  Our fam therapist suggested that Rae try EMDR therapy. Snapping fingers, eye movement. Helps with trauma. We added the girls to our insurance Jan. 1 to access better therapy, exhibit A for Rae. 

1st try:  Rae didn't like her 1st appt, felt like she was being judged. Coach drove her home and she and I never chatted about it. (unintentional, life busy and not a hot topic at dinner, etc.). The next week we didn't have an appt because I was in Tampa. 

Enter insurance:  CM, the therapist, emailed me to say that my insurance had rejected the claim. Huh?

I spent over an hour on the phone with Blue Cross Blue Shield. "CM is not in your network. Oh, wait, yes she is. You're all good. It's covered."

Pep talk:  Last week, I drove Rae from school to EMDR. Alone in the car, my 1sr chance to deliver my pep talk.

Me:  My fingers hurt all the time - if someone told me they could fix my fingers (and this pales in comparison to what you have to deal with and I get that), then I'd do it right away. I wouldn't wait. You need this. Dad and I want you to feel better. No one said it would be easy. * Try to be open and choose something to look forward to afterward, probably a big hug from me (inside joke, she's not a hugger). 

*I often use the example of Tank's OCD. He works to stay ahead of feeling crappy - not his fault, just like the girls' trauma - not their fault. 

The good, the bad:  CM said 2nd appt went well, that she encouraged Rae to take  breaks, etc. Great. 

CM (A few days later):  your insurance rejected the claim and still won't pay the first claim. 

Wednesday (as in yesterday):  I called BCBS. Remember last convo:  you're covered. I shared my frustration. The guy called me belligerent and hung up on me. Hey, if you're gonna jerk people around - brace yourself, AND - I was only getting warmed up. I called back, asked for a manager, in the process - disconnected. Beautiful.

Unrelated:  I'm organizing my photos.
Moving stuff to Snapfish. I came
across this. See the face?
 It made me chuckle. 

3rd time, not charming:  I spoke to Keith for almost an hour. He discovered that CM is in network, but our BCBS policy doesn't include CM. Huh? 

Keith:  We'll send a list of other providers who ARE in your network. 

I explained through tears that this was not happening. It's not easy adopting teen girls, and paying out the ass for good insurance, and begging her to open up for THIS to happen? After she's put in effort? You guys said we were covered. Not having it. He suggested I speak to Coach's benefits dept. 

*anyone need a break? Get some water? Run 5 miles to burn off some steam? Take some deep, cleaning breaths? Just me? Well we're getting to the good part*

I called Coach's 'Company'. Spilled my guts, then the guy said he couldn't speak to me without Coach's consent, since Coach is the worker bee. 

I think it's a shadow
of the gutter.
 Looks like a face, right?

Me:  Really? Well I'm the boss lady, so stop it. I'm not in the mood. Consent? What is this 1950? I'm on the policy. I'm an adult. This is MY health insurance. He treats patients at work and I DO.EVERYTHING.ELSE. So, I'm handling this.

I hung up. Texted Coach. He happened to be in a meeting today at corporate. I envisioned the benefits people being at corporate - like back in the day (FUN FACT:  Coach just celebrated his 25th anniversary with Company and I was happy to tell everyone at benefits who didn't know their ass from their elbow this fun fact). Because Company is bigger now, the benefits people are in Iowa. 

A few hours later, Coach called benefits after his meeting and gave consent. At home, I put on a string of pearls, some pumps, and an apron to play the part. 

Comedy central:  I call benefits in Iowa. 

Samantha:  I can't speak to you, because I need Coach's consent. 

Me:  Yeah, no. He called less than an hour ago and gave consent. Look it up. 

Samantha:  Oh, well you only get one phone call, so yeah - sorry. 

*is one of us imprisoned? If so, it must be me. I felt incarcerated. 

Me (glances around, opens the oven)  OK, where's the hidden camera? We aren't Siamese, so like I wasn't with him ON.THE.CALL.WHEN.HE.GAVE.CONSENT. so THIS.IS.MY.CALL. 

Samantha:  blah blah, nothing sensical - Oh, wait - she told me that she'd studied to become a therapist. for awhile. So, she knows some things about therapy and this must be hard. 

WHAT? LORD, MAKE IT STOP. 

Me (whisper-talking very intentionally):  I'm gonna dial back my anger here and I'll wait while you get a manager.

Samantha (puts me on hold):  Oh, the manager can't talk to you because you only get one phone call with consent and yeah. You don't have a phone call left. 

Iowa friends, these people aren't doing a great job of representing, just saying. 

Me:  Hey, Samantha. It's the year 2026. I can hang up right now, call back and say  my name is Coach. I know his SS#. And no one can question my gender. So that's what I'm gonna do. Good luck to you. 

I called benefits for the THIRD TIME, claiming to be Coach and no.one.questioned me. I'd have loved it if they'd have tried. 

Stephanie:  I'm sorry to hear this, I know how you feel, because I have a kid who needed therapy. (UM, NO - STEPH, PLEASE DON'T). 

This part dragged on for awhile but mostly because Stephanie didn't know anything. She escalated the issue, but thought maybe I should've been talking to someone in a different department. It'll be 3-5 days before we hear. She told me that I should call BCBS back. This is their issue. (hold me back)

Me:  They said my COMPANY HEALTH POLICY DOESN'T INCLUDE THIS ONE PROVIDER, SO THIS IS ON YOU PEOPLE AT COMPANY TO FIX IT. I WILL NOT REST UNTIL YOU DO. ADD CM TO MY POLICY BECAUSE I'VE HAD BCBS FOR YEARS AND I'VE NEVER MET A PROVIDER THAT WAS IN NETWORK THAT I DIDN'T HAVE ACCESS TO. 

I connected with CM before the comical company phone calls. She charges $150 a session, takes a set number of discounted clients per quarter, but she's already reached her quota for those. If we pause treatment, she should have an opening in a few months at the discounted $75 rate. This treatment typically only takes like 8-10 sessions. My preference is that the insurance thing gets patched up. 

*****

Anyone been hung up on or disconnected more than twice in the same insurance call before? Is this an industry wide thing - the I can't talk to you unless you're the insured, or is it just Company? Anyone think CM will be added into our policy? I've never heard of an in network provider being off limits. When have you thought you were on candid camera?

Mishap aftermath: how Christmas morning shaped up, plus passive aggressive much, Marie?

How things shaped up: 

• On Christmas morning, a few of the guys opened a box with ALL/MOST OF THEIR GIFTED CLOTHES INSIDE. What happened to the separate boxes?

Coach:  The wrapping dept seemed busy. I decided to consolidate. (not a big deal, but some people finished unwrapping sooner than others).

• Ed opened a sweater. Held it up. 

(Me:  hmm, did I get him a sweater?) He cocked his head, asking:  Is this a woman's sweater? Yes, yes it was. 

Mini (who'd only requested sweaters):  Oh, Mom, is that supposed to be mine?

Memorizing each gift is not one of my super powers, so I nodded, I GUESS, SO. (if you see where this is headed, then let's assume your brain isn't as muddled as my Christmas morning mind that was distracted by  Did I start the crock pot? I still need to wash the tablecloth, Where the hell are the damn men's socks? and other Hosting-related tasks). 

• Reg (opening a flannel shirt lined with fleece):  I WANT IT! 

Poor Reg. We've been quoting him ever since. I wrinkled my nose to activate my thinking cap. Reg owns plenty of shirts, I'd mostly gotten him pants, his deficit area. Finally, I leaned forward - "Hang on, Reg. Check the size . . . is that a small? Oh, shit. I think that was meant for your cousin, Reg. My godson." (yes, cousins have the same first name, part of the reason Ann hates me - will explain next time). 

This marks the first time I'd confused a Reg godson gift with a Reg son gift and we all had a good chuckle. (when I retold the story at Christmas dinner, Ann did NOT chuckle. Shock). I told Reg I could get him a shirt like that, since he seemed to like it so much. He assured me he really didn't care/had enough shirts. But the I WANT IT lives on. We rewrapped it before cousins arrived. 

• Ed opened the record, and it was the one I'd ordered for him. 

Then he told me he'd also ordered his GF a record and had it shipped to our house. Aha, well, I wrapped it for you - that record-shaped mystery gift was under the tree. Would've been funny if he'd opened the record he bought girlfriend. Luck of the draw. 

• I dug in my closet and brought down the 17 boxes of shoe options for Kay and Rae, and there - even though I'd looked so many times, lost in the shuffle of shoe boxes was the Macy's bag of men's dress socks. No one really cared, but misplacing them made me grouchy so a collective cheer for found dress socks was sounded. 

Everyone raced off to shower and do chores to get ready to host. Finally showered and dressed, I walked down the stairs a few minutes after people had walked through the front door. My sisters' two families arrived at 3:00 on.the.dot.- not the norm, but since they planned to march out right at 8 pm for their separate party, remember - so, they'd chosen punctuality, I guess.

• I was carrying the godchildren gifts downstairs, realizing that I didn't have a gift for Meg, my goddaughter. Marie's daughter. Where was it? 

Lightbulb moment:  I'D BOUGHT HER THE RED SWEATER. THE ONE ED OPENED, AND MINI CLAIMED AS HER OWN. 

When I was getting dressed, Curly had popped into my room - I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO WEAR? 

Now, hang on - had I not asked her weeks prior, multiple times, if she (my sweats-wearing kid) had an outfit for Christmas? Of course I did.  

During my descent down the stairs (it's a standard staircase, not extra long - but lots of clarity happened here) I replayed Mini calling into my bathroom while I was drying my hair, I TOLD CURLY  TO WEAR MY NEW RED SWEATER WITH YOUR BLACK FAUX LEATHER PANTS, SO SHE'S ALL SET. 

Shit, shit, shit. Now the tags were removed from the would-be Meg sweater. I had nothing for  her. I summoned Mini and Curly into the front hall. Our pow-wow would've been entertaining if it'd been captured on video. Our guests were milling around in the kitchen, greeting one another. Meanwhile my two girls and I huddled in the front hall - well, we know the score, screwing something up that impacts Drisella and Anastasia is not the goal. We groaned over the sucky-sisters-situation, and spit-balled what to do. Give Meg a sweater Mini had just opened? 

Mini:  Let's just tell Meg. She'll think it's funny. (unlike her mother, Meg has a sense of humor. She's 27, Lad's age and a huge Mini fan). 

Mini was with me when I ran in to buy
 another sweater for Meg. She
 chose this one - that she
 also got for Christmas
 and happened to be wearing it. 

So we recreated the moment - Ed opening a woman's sweater, Mini claiming it, etc. Meg laughed. I promised to run back to Von Maur and get her another sweater soon-ish.

The next day before all hell broke loose when I confronted my sisters with 'Why is the adoption polarizing for you', etc., I'd run into Von Maur and bought Meg a different sweater after Curly's nearby b-ball game. At the sibling meetup, Mini was so shook up, she left it in the car. 

That night, Tank ran over to my folks' house to deliver Meg's sweater to Marie, who was still staying at their house. If you don't know, Tank could be an actor. He does excellent imitations. His Mr. Bean is off the charts great. He reenacted Marie, somewhat reluctantly accepting a shopping bag with a gift for Meg. 

When Marie, aka Drisella, returned to Milwaukee, she left the gift at my folks' home, in the middle of the room. Passive aggressive much? What if all adults were juveniles? *shudder* 

*****

Do you now wish your family quotes include I WANT IT? It is catchy and versatile. Trust me. Have you ever gifted a male child a female sweater? Are you like me - need everyone to show up at least 10 minutes later . . . manners, right?  What would you do about the new Meg sweater that's collecting dust at my parent's house? Keep in mind, Meg is camp-Marie and has probably been told a twisted version of events. Neither of Marie's kids, who are big Mini fans, have been in touch, liked anything on socials, etc. since the fallout.

Five-Christmas-mishaps Friday

Thought I'd share some heavy issues I'm sifting thru, but it's Friday. I'll fill you in next week. Besides, pretty soon the window might close on y0ur interest in (insert ominous music here) . . . the Shenanigan Christmas mishaps. 

Background to how things ran amuck: In a word, I delegated (unheard of!), sending Coach to Von Maur with the boys'/his gifts for the co0mplimentary giftwrap. 

Pro tip:  I buy boys' clothes on sale, have them try things on in advance - particularly pants. Items on sale have fewer options for returns after Christmas. The shirts/sweaters remain surprises for the boys - Coach selected a few things he wanted, and we chose which boy got what. Coach never wants ANYTHING, but I point out when his wardrobe needs a refresh. 

I labeled every item, talked him thru it, wrote it out on paper. 

Curly, cracking up:  Dad, have you ever been to a store? 

Beneath this tree sits
 some mystery gifts.

He was recently shocked that the grocery store has a public bathroom, so you probably know the answer to that. All he had to do:  Drop the items off. Give the wrapping dept my #. 

After Rae's b-b all game near the mall, I dropped her off at her next activity, and drove to the mall solo. As I pulled into the parking lot, I got the 'wrapped gifts ready' text. Perfectly timed. 

But - Coach would've flunked Santa's elf-school. 

Issue #1:  He'd called me as he left the mall. "I think I messed something up. A few things had no names on them, and there was only 1 gift for me (should've been 3). But we'll figure it out."

Me:  Huh? How? Everything is WRAPPED?

Issue #2:  Unbeknownst to me, the name tag fell off Marie's daughter's Meg's gift. Meg's my goddaughter. This didn't happen on Coach's watch. Von Maur, get stickier nametags next year. 

I had to order Kay a new stocking this year,
because we changed the spelling of her
name when we adopted her. A few days later,
she comes home with this - a stocking that
 matches ours exactly. She randomly got
this stocking at the school's St. Nick thing. I
 could've saved a bundle ordering a new
 one and embroidered it myself at the
library. Ugh. Crazy though, right?
 What're the chances?

Issue #3:  I ordered Ed a vinyl record, suggested by his girlfriend. My goal:  a non-clothing gift for everyone. Two record shaped packages arrived from Amazon. Huh? I wrapped them both. In the interest of time this was easier than going to Amazon account to see which one I'd ordered him/opening the outer packaging which I didn't bother with. 

Issue #4:  I had almost nothing for stockings. I ran to Macy's on the 23rd and bought loads of men's socks with gift cards that I've had forEVAH. When Nana used to shop for Christmas, she'd buy my boys Ralph Lauren polo shirts, rarely large enough to fit them. I returned them when I could and built up quite the Macy's gift card collection. When we filled  stockings, the bag of socks was NOWHERE. I worried I'd dropped it in the parking lot. We looked in the car multiple times. I was so annoyed. 

Issue #5:  Redbubble stickers did not arrive until the next day, blowing my only fun Christmas gift. 

Well, I did put 13 nuts in Kay's stocking. When I was a kid, we didn't get coal. My
folks put nuts in naughty kids' stockings. Each of our kids get 1-5 nuts. It's a tradition, and they always compare who got more, etc. Kay got the motherload. Coach was slightly opposed, but I over ruled him. The truth hurts sometimes and if I need to spell it out with nuts, then so be it. 

Old photo - our former
stockings with a pile of nuts. 

I'd intended to put my kids' stickers in their stockings and the cousin stickers would be distributed at our party - instead, I gave out no stickers and rude cousins left to have a separate party. If only I could locate a 'you're rude and you don't know it' sticker to send to each of them after the fact. 

I reached out to Redbubble and requested they reimburse my shipping costs, which were ridiculously high because I'd ordered them on the late side - but the website listed 'choose this shipping method to receive by Christmas.' They  emailed yesterday that they are reimbursing me. Let's go!

Tune in Monday to learn about how each 'issue' was handled, or laughed at. 

****

Mini and a few of her friends are part of the Notre Dame/Saint Mary's Irish dancing group at Notre Dame. I'm heading there today for a show, and have plans to meet one of the other moms ,who's in town from the DC area, for dinner. I'm excited even though the weather is freaky cold and the girls' schools are cancelled. Coach texted me to wrap my brain around the no school on my day off possibility, and I was like STEP AHEAD OF YOU. I'LL BE DROPPING THEM OFF AT YOUR OFFICE WHEN I DRIVE TO NOTRE DAME. Teamwork makes the dreamwork. 

Did you get coal in your stocking? Ever heard of nuts in a stocking? Any predictions for how this played out when we opened gifts?

(almost, OK, almost for me) Wordless Wednesday (recently referenced videos)

This is a 4 sec video - playing volleyball vs our cross town rival. Split district, their school HUGE, ours small-ish. Also, we forgot how to play volleyball upon entering their gym, which was too bad. Not a conference game at least. Volley for the Cure , raises $ for breast cancer research/awareness. I donated pumpkin bread to the bake sale, sorry you all don't live closer, cuz YUM.

Here's why I 'bout lost my mind:  THEY HAD TEEN ANNOUNCERS WHO SANG 'POINT, RED DEVILS' every time they scored, which was often. Nails on a chalkboard. When we DID score, they mumbled, 'point, hornets' as if someone had died. Highlight:  Curly spiked the ball in a girl's face and they had to get a towel to wipe the girl's glitter makeup off the ball. *mind, no one was injured in this referenced highlight. No video of it.  

BASKETBALL HIGHLIGHTS FROM THE GAME I RECENTLY DESCRIBED (each one is 10 sec or less):  

Curly passes to Kallie, her Bestie- who hits a rare 3 to put us in the lead or tie it. Clutch!

(should be set to this song): You spin me right round baby right round like a record baby. What is even happening? Hello, Mr. Ref? He's obvi watching the ball and he doesn't see Kallie, Curly's bestie, get spun ROUND by her defender. Watch the bottom left screen.

Curly for 3.

Next possession, same spot. Curly for 3.

Curly for 3, watch the other team's guy fans (top left of screen) - they bow to Curly - who's shot isn't always on, but in this game when we were down by 12 at start of  4th quarter, she was the queen of 3's. Good guys WIN! So exciting. 

*****

I want to share a video of Curly blocking a shot and being called for a foul even though she only touched the ball. People, I had things to say to the refs about that.

 

Do you enjoy basketball? Are you accepting of bad calls? Any good cross town rival stories? (Ernie raises her hand.) 

Lad played water polo. The Red Devils coach hollered during a timeout when we were briefly winning (maybe Lad's soph yr?) - not how we usually rolled . . . (bleachers hung way close to the pool and I heard him with my own ears) - "C'mon, we can beat this team, it's just the hornets."

Bite me, Red Devil Coach. Lad's senior year we beat them twice, winning the coveted trophy in the cross town matchup. So so validating.

Tampa: the flight, the cold, the visit, & the recruiter

Remember how I said, I might only post 1x/week? And Pat said she thought it would be hard given all the happenings I'd want to share? Well, here we are. Tampa is current, so I'll share that, but dang the backlog of stuff is making me twitch, so instead of breaking this up into multiple posts . . . it's all here.

TAMPA:  Curly decided we'd fly home Friday. Our Thurs campus visit wrapped up after 6:30. We would've had to leave at 3:30 if we'd had a flight to catch, so staying till Friday was clutch. I cancelled my extra flight, but might've forgotten if not for my blogger reminders. 

Getting there is half the fun.  Well, if that was true, we should've cut our losses and stayed home. I didn't sleep well the night before our flight. When we were about to leave home, I looked outside at blizzard-like weather. What now? Because no one saw that coming - rain was predicted, plows weren't out and roads were awful.

The plan:  Curly and I would leave for the airport Wednesday morning earlier than necessary (laughable in hindsight), drop Kay at school, and zip over to Coach's work where my bestie Becky would meet us. She'd agreed to drive us to the airport, brining a few of her daycare kids. Well, that's before the drive was predicted to be a two hour nightmare. The ride to Kay's school took like 20 vs 7 min. Becky had to bail. 

Uber-averse:  I don't Uber. If Coach is with me, Uber away. Not a problem. One bad experience and I cannot, will not rely on Uber. 

Why? Longtime readers might recall:  I lost my drivers license in '15 after getting 4 speeding tickets in 6 months. Did you know you've befriended Ernie Andretti? We hired a lawyer to overturn a few tickets. In order to get to the courthouse while Coach was at work, I had to call an Uber. It never came, and I HAD TO BE IN COURT. 

What are friends for? Becky ordered me an Uber for O'Hare -not the courthouse, not going down that rabbit hole. She waited with me till Mr. Uber arrived. The arrival time to O'Hare increased like crazy. We'd maybe have 30 min to get to our gate. 

If Tank can do it, so can I. I recalled Tank's ability to make his flight after the most hilarious, most stressful, most insane airport ride over the summer and I assured Curly we'd make it. (links provided in case you haven't read those funny posts)

How hard is it? Traffic improved and we got there at 9:07. One hour till our flight. I warned Curly we might be delayed due to weather. Security. Bathroom visit. Boarded plane. Our non-purchased seats were together. Winning. Then the pilot announced that they'd loaded the fuel in the wrong spot, so they had to fix that. 

Not a comfort. 

Hurry up and wait. After sitting on the tarmac for almost 2 hrs, we de-iced and took off. We skipped the hotel, and drove to campus to watch the game. (point of the exercise) arriving 10 minutes late. Did I mention I was driving an electric, free upgrade rental? The game was lopsided, we lost. After the game, we met the coach and the assistant for dinner near our hotel. That went well. The coach asked if she got her b-ball skills from me. I told him my high school b-ball story. (remind me to share that with you later). It's a funny story. 

Stupid cold. Mid 50s, no prob. But the wind? Next level. Add to that - we were driven around on a golf cart. With the wind? Felt like the 30s. Curly and I were on the back of the cart. Giving up holding on with one hand, I resorted to bracing myself with my feet to not fall off. I feared my hand would snap off in the cold. My scalp hurt. 

Walking on campus
with a local bird.  

The visit was good. On Thursday, Curly did an individual workout, while I worked on my next chapter in the campus coffee shop. We watched the team practice. Took a tour. Saw the dorm room of a girl from Ireland who's on the basketball team. She and Curly both play(ed) fiddle. They chatted about the leg tanning nonsense of Irish dancing (the Irish girl didn't dance, but her friends did). Spoke to a business prof, even though Curly's not interested in business. 100% if Tank was at the school, he'd meet this prof for coffee daily. He was such a character and we bumped into him more than once. He told Curly he was gonna convince her to be a business major. Campus was pretty. Spanish colonial styled buildings, a beautiful pool, looking out over a small lake. 

Who could study if
this was an option?
Assuming it wasn't like 35
with the windchill. We marveled
 at how a guy was in the pool.

One drawback: the middle of nowhere. Off campus housing doesn't exist. There are restaurants and stores like 25-30 minute drive away, but not college-scene vibe. I wish they'd arranged for Curly to lunch with the team, while the coaches and I ate elsewhere. We visited with a few of the girls towards the end of the visit when we finally ate lunch at 3:45. I wonder what the kids do for fun. Coach pointed out that he didn't leave campus for 2 years, yeah - but the next two years? Uh, he left campus all.the.time. 

Make us an offer we can't refuse. The coach wants her. This is his first year there. One player from his former school transferred there to play for him, which was a good sign. Another girl wanted to, but her nursing major made that impossible. He said they need Curly's strength and solid stature, noting most of his players fall over if the wind blows. Her academics = 24k in scholarship $$. He's putting together an offer and will email it soon. 

Who even am I, charging a car
like I know what's what?

Late night thriller, anyone? Curly loves a romcom or a thriller. I dropped her at the hotel after dinner. The hotel chargers were full. I left to charge the car back near the restaurant where we'd just eaten. Clueless-me asked a guy for tips. He'd just bought his electric car that day, but he helped me. I got back to the hotel so late, but we burned the midnight oil and watched Heretic featuring my main man, Hugh Grant. Scary though. 

Friday, fun day. Our flight was at 6:15 pm. We shopped the outlets. Returned to  the hotel. Curly reheated her dinner leftovers for lunch. When we got out of the car, I was like, HANG ON, IT'S WARM IN THE SUN. We laid by the pool in our clothes. I read more of The Correspondent, and napped. Lovely. Oh, and I plugged in my car behind the hotel to charge it a bit more. 

Tampa University. 

Tampa University. Next we squeezed in a self-guided tour of Tampa University. Bigger campus, also D2. I wanted her to see what else is out there. I don't want her to play basketball just to say she did it, sacrificing other aspects of college. 

What's next? Curly is hoping that posting 'got an offer from St. Leo' will prompt other schools to check her out. I guess that's how it works.

Recruiter, predicably terrible. In May we hired a recruiter for Curly. He gave us a B1G1 deal for Reg and Curly. I convinced him to lower his rate further. He sucks. So frustrating. We knew it'd be tough for him to find Reg a spot last minute, but he's done very little for Curly. In the fall, I said to him on a call:  I assume you work off of referrals, and I'd be hard pressed to encourage anyone to work with you. (Knowing I was gonna stick it to him, Curly refused to be in the room till I was done telling him off). Why is she better than opponents who have D1 offers? It's been very frustrating. 

Sunset on the flight home.
Curly said, "I wish the school
 was closer to home." Ugh. Me too.

Before flying home, we drafted a text to him:  I'M FLYING HOME AFTER AN OFFICIAL VISIT IN FLORIDA THAT I ARRANGED THRU MY OWN CONTACTS. LMK WHAT YOU'VE GOT FOR ME. 

She texted back and forth with him a bit, and we chuckled at his B.S. He promised to have a phone call with her before the Bears game.

Curly:  100% he'll blow it off. 

Before the Bears game she texted him a reminder about their call and he responded with:  "Oh, sorry, Curly. I got last minute Bears game plans." Of course he did. 

*****

I've been drafting this during the Bears game. I needed the distraction. Ed and Tank were at the game. Not the results we wanted. Womp womp. Do you Uber?  Have you driven/do you drive an electric car? Have you seen Heretic? Anyone attend or no anyone who attended a school in the middle of nowhere?

Diary of a super fan who 'might' be hard to enjoy a game with

BEARS WIN! OMG - We were down considerably the entire game on Saturday night (Jan. 10th) vs our arch rivals the Green Bay Packers. Instead of drifting in and out of the room, which is my tendency, I sat at the snack bar drafting emails to local business owners. Both younger girls' schools have upcoming galas/fundraisers, and I was begging asking if these business owners would like to purchase an ad, etc. With emails completed, I paced the room. Mini ordered me to sit down as I was making her nervous. 

Apparently, I ran my mouth too much, said the wrong things, disputed calls, asked too many questions, and had volume control issues . . . just a few of my game watching etiquette. I told Curly to hand me the 3 baskets of laundry that needed to be folded. That helped, and Curly was in awe of how fast I can wrestle laundry into neat piles. Hey, we all have our strengths. 

Curly suggested that I start bringing a basket of laundry to her games. Was she implying that I need to simmer down and be distracted at her games? Yes, she sure was. 

Other exciting games! On Thursday night (Jan 8th), Curly's team played an away game against a team that beat us in the Christmas tournament. We were missing two of our starters, and we were down 14 points going into the 4th quarter. A group of guys showed up after the first half to cheer for the other team.  

Curly had like 24 points, about 18 of them in the 4th quarter. The boy fans were heckling our players, chanting "Shoot it, shoot it!" Our bench consists of kids who aren't seasoned b-ball players, so the chants were aimed at the girls who looked uncomfortable and panicked with the ball. 

In the 4th quarter, Curly hit two threes from the same spot on the floor in back to back possessions. After her 2nd three, the boy fans all raised their hands and bowed towards her as if in prostration - even though they were cheering for the other team. I didn't notice them do this, but one of Curly's teammates watched the film after the gamed and she pointed it out. So funny. 

My fav play of the game:  Curly passed it to Kallie - her friend whose mom passed away suddenly freshman year. Kallie doesn't score often, but this is maybe the third game when she hit a clutch shot this season. In a tied game early in the season, her buzzer beater bucket won us the game. 

Anyway, Thursday night, she hit a THREE POINTER to give us the lead with 2 minutes left. The other team had to foul us in hopes of getting the ball back. Curly was followed and hit her free throws. We won. My legs were shaking the whole way home.

*****

EDITING TO ADD:   Mark this date, the first time I've successfully used WiFi on a plane. I wanted to post this before our Tampa trip, but Curly didn't have time to help me find the clip of the play I wanted to share from her huddl account . . . get excited - I'll post it soon. Bears play again on Sunday, and two or three of my boys will be there. Who's cheering for the Bears?

Where's the forgotten child's cake?

Where's the beef cake? Reg turned 20 on Friday. I had things to accomplish (Fridays off), but was I so busy that I forgot important birthday protocol?

On Fridays, Coach and I try to have a late afternoon date while the girls are at therapy. We've added them to our insurance as of 1/1/26. Switching therapists is in the works:  

• not someone they will share, b/c that's ill-advised, we found out after DCFS set their therapy up with the same girl, and 
• someone who is actually versed in trauma, adoption, etc.

Dinner out. Coach and I shared a fajita for
 two, the Friday special for $25.
 Ask me how I know that.

Their driver drops them home at 6:30. Coach and I regroup and connect before the weekend. Once they switch over, my guess is Fridays will no longer include afternoon dates. *sob*

Our take-each-kid-to-breakfast-twice-a-year goal tends to coincide with each kid's birthday, if we can manage it. We couldn't for Reg, so we took him to an early dinner Friday. Coach and I got a drink at our fav Mexican spot, and then Reg met us an hour later.  

Reg invited friends over to watch the IU game and celebrate his bday in the basement at 8:30. 

Somewhere along the line, I forgot to make him a cake/dessert. Do I feel guilty? YES! What is wrong with me? 

At Von Maur, we saw
these bags by Marc
 Jacobs. A wallet that's
 labeled 'THE WALLET'?
 This doesn't interest
me at all. Am I alone? 

Coach had theater box tickets to the Bulls game on Jan. 3rd. We could've invited another couple, but I insisted he take some kids. They'd love it. Reg's bday was coming, so:  gift. Theater box is a fine dining experience. The buffet is top-notch and endless. Basketball viewing is cool, but secondary. Pretty sure the Bulls organization might ban our son from coming back. He ate so much Coach worried he might puke. 

Reg never wants anything for his birthday. Maybe in my mind, that checked the birthday box. 

Mini calls Reg the forgotten child. (Can you name any of the reasons why?)

Insisting on this not becoming a Mini-fulfilling prophecy, I bought Reg a soft quarter zip when she and I were at the mall on Friday, so she could get fitted for a proper bra (raise your hand if you recall when Mini packed clothes in garbage bags, left them in the dorm hall, and they got tossed out. She lost her bras - um, over a year ago.) 

Also at the mall, this woman
 works in the shoe dept and
 she reminds me so much of
 actress Kate McKinnon.
 Am I alone? 

I didn't FORGET his birthday. I thought the main components were covered:  gift, dinner, friends over. Maybe since I wasn't making the meal, the cake making slipped my mind? 

I realized my error when we drove away from the restaurant. Reg had driven separate. Coach and I stopped at a store, bought a caramel- apple- walnut pie, a brownie mix, and vanilla ice cream. The younger girls made brownies. I stuck a candle in the pie. We sang to him. I never admitted to him that I forgot to get or make something, but obvi. Later, we delivered brownies and ice cream to his basement gathering. 

Reg wearing his 'be savage, don't
be average' t-shirt that a friend
found at a thrift shop. Here he
is with his birthday PIE. 

Per his request, we played Code Names before his friends arrived. When I was going to bed, I realized - I forgot to give him his gift. Of course I did. I texted him:  

Happy Birthday. Hope you enjoyed your day. I'm glad I found you after you and I got separated on the Metra in DC when you were 9. I bought you a gift, but forgot to give it to you. It's on the buffet. 

(show of hands:  who's heard the DC Metra debacle?)

********

I envisioned this post being much shorter, but it took words to explain away my birthday cake guilt. Ever forget to make someone a cake, or other guilt-ridden admissions you'd like to share?